


A Matter of Vocabulary

by Kalira



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Clothed Sex, Keith is straightforward, Lance is cuddly, Multi, No actual sex, Pidge POV, Pidge is thinky, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Threesome - F/M/M, Words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-06 22:15:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10345668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: Lance just wants to cuddle; is that so hard? Well . . . maybe not, if he asks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In which I am Lance - I, too, love cuddles and am sometimes awkward about asking for or initiating them. (Unfortunately unlike Lance I do not have a Pidge and Keith to snuggle with.)
> 
> There's (a little) Spanish in the text. Hover for a translation; also in end notes.

“Come _here_ ,” Lance whined needily, opening his arms and flexing his fingers in a playful mockery of a child’s demanding gesture, “I want cuddles!”

Keith raised an eyebrow, drawing his head back as his mouth slanted sideways. All in all it was such a _feline_ expression of confusion and uncertain-distaste that Pidge had to bite down, hard, on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing at him.

“I’m not very good at . . . cuddles.” Pidge answered Lance, though the words were admittedly more amused than apologetic, and then glanced sideways at Keith. “And I’m not sure. . .”

“I don’t. Cuddle.” Keith said, brows drawn together in a slightly alarmed look now.

“I don’t _care_. . .” Lance said, pouting. “Piiidge. . . Come on.” He waved a hand at her, beckoning her in. “Come here,  mis amantes, I want to share skin surface.” There was certainly enough of it around to share; Lance was only wearing his bright blue boxers, the rest of his slender, muscular body bare, and Pidge was stripped down similarly.

Pidge snickered, but rose obligingly from her place at the desk and moved back towards the bed. “Well. I can try that.” she said dryly. “I imagine even Keith can manage _sharing skin surface_.” she added, glancing at him.

Keith groaned and rolled his eyes, but he was smiling slightly as well, fond. And he slid off the corner of her desk that he had been perched on, trailing back over to the bed himself without protest, even as Lance all but dragged Pidge down and into his arms, humming happily. Pidge squirmed and kicked a little until Lance let up, allowing her to get comfortable, and then let herself be squished against his chest with a low hum of her own, content.

“Keith. . .” Lance whined, stretching out the name. “Are you too chicken to,” he paused, snickering, “share skin surface when we’re not-” Lance choked to a halt with a sound like he’d half-swallowed his tongue, and Pidge had to look.

She opened her eyes and lifted her head, and found Keith had stripped off the jeans that had been all he was wearing before and was now standing naked by the bed. Her eyes widened. She’d seen most of him naked, of course - and it was a sight well worth appreciating, lean muscle _everywhere_ , and he only looked even more graceful without the bulky drape of his jacket and the bulkier satchels on their broad belt obscuring his movements - but not. . .

 _All_ of him. As he had apparently not been wearing anything underneath the jeans Pidge had so happily been grinding herself against earlier and which he was now dropping on the floor.

“Um. . .” Lance said dumbly, which made Pidge realise her mouth was hanging open and promptly close it.

“If you want to share skin surface I figured you’d want more of it?” Keith said blankly, and Lance sputtered a little. “Available?”

“Yep! Yep, that’s- that’s good!” Pidge said, her voice pitched a little higher than usual. “Um. Get comfy?” She gestured at Lance beside her like she was showing him off and felt silly.

Keith climbed directly up onto the bed, putting a foot on the mattress by Pidge rather than kneeling on it like a normal person. He stepped lightly across them both and then folded his legs, dropping to the bed on Lance’s other side before stretching out with a sigh.

Pidge couldn’t quite drag her eyes off him, and he raised his eyebrows at her - at them, probably, she realised belatedly, as Lance was still not quite with it. Pidge elbowed him discreetly and he shifted automatically - Lance was very easy to share space with, even for Pidge, who really wasn’t very good at it herself.

He stretched out his other arm to Keith, who accepted the invitation and settled close with a rather awkwardly jerky movement, losing his usual grace. It was cute, if ridiculous, how gawky affectionate overtures made Keith sometimes.

Pidge tugged the discarded blanket over their legs - it was a little chilly for as much skin as they were all showing, even curled up together - and Keith shifted a little and leaned into Lance’s side.

One of his arms draped across Lance’s middle - Pidge thought he might have actually _wriggled_ in happiness, and remembered with something like amusement how she had once thought he would outgrow ridiculous behaviour - and Keith’s knuckles brushed the sensitive skin of Pidge’s belly on Lance’s other side. She slid a hand down his forearm and over his wrist, tight tendons and sharp bones, and then shifted his hand until his callused palm and fingers rested on her skin instead.

Keith met her eyes and petted her lightly, then let his fingers curl around her hip comfortably. Pidge smiled at him, pleased, and he squeezed playfully, making her squirm and push closer to Lance’s side.

“There, this is awesome, right?” Lance asked, and Keith snorted, lips still curled in his tiny ‘I don’t understand but I like it’ smile.

“Yeah, sure.” Pidge agreed, though her eyes flicked to the tiny handheld computer she had been messing with. Again. She had already tweaked it to play music - and to be compatible with her headphones, though she’d now managed, with Hunk’s help, to repurpose some Altean comm units into something similar - for Lance, but she had _plans_ for it, even further.

Her mind wandered to those plans, ticking through Lance’s silly suggestions or requests - and the serious ones - and sorting them into ‘no’, ‘probably not - but try’, and ‘yes’. As her lists formed, she automatically started translating some of it into the code she’d need to work with. . .

Pidge dragged her focus back to bed with her boyfriends before she got distracted enough to wriggle out of Lance’s arms and head back over to the desk. She would have plenty of time to play with it _later_ , she reassured herself. And it _was_ nice, being cosily squashed in Lance’s embrace; though she thought, eying Keith’s position on his other side, that if _she_ had been in Lance’s place she would feel stifled.

Especially since Keith had twisted into something of a curl against Lance’s side, head on his shoulder and arm across his waist, it looked like one leg hooked over his beneath the blanket as well. Leaning onto Lance’s side and almost lying on top of him. Keith had gone completely still there, save for his breathing, eyes closed and mouth slack.

Pidge herself was tucked between Lance’s arm and his body, and was lying partially _on_ Lance’s arm; it was definitely trapped there.

Lance looked pretty happy with himself - and his location - though.

“I am never,” Lance said, looking down the length of Keith’s body - or what he could see, with where Keith had wound up, “using the word ‘cuddle’ again.”

“You know, Keith could probably be persuaded to ‘cuddle’.” Pidge said dryly. “It’s not like he’s got that stupid masculine insecurity thing going on any more than _you_ have. Also I’m not sure he’s actually asleep.” she observed, lifting her head to peek over Lance at his face.

His eyes _were_ closed, and he hadn’t reacted to their conversation, so it was at least a fair possibility he was asleep, she supposed. Though it would have been awfully fast. On the other hand . . . Keith drove himself so hard that sometimes once he was still somewhere relatively comfortable where he could let his guard down, it didn’t take much for him to fall asleep.

“And _even_ Keith,” she continued, “has likely figured out your _cunning_ subterfuge, as entertaining as it was.” Pidge snuggled a little more into the warmth of Lance’s body. He really was comfortable to cuddle with, even with all the awkward angles he’d never quite outgrown - something else she’d expected to happen that never had - and his fidgety nature. “Or if not, he will.”

“Yeah, but _sharing skin surface_ apparently means _get naked and plaster yourself on Lance_ and I am _so_ on board with this replacing cuddling.” Lance said happily, squirming again and, Pidge realised with a snort, rubbing his hip against Keith, probably in the vicinity of his abs. They were very nice abs, but Pidge thought Lance appreciated them a little more than she did herself. She wondered if it had anything to do with how many times he had rubbed against them until he came in his pants.

Also, knowing Keith, he might very well respond similarly - or with similar ease - to ‘would you get naked for me’. Pidge considered the possibility. Either that, or it might actually make him awkward or embarrassed; uncertain hypothesis. People were complicated.

“What about in front of the others?” Pidge asked, trailing her fingers up the centre of Lance’s chest, then back down. He hummed under her touch, chest vibrating pleasantly against her hand, and Pidge smiled contentedly. “For ‘cuddle’.” she clarified. “I doubt you’d get - or _want_ \- this result, say, in the lounge.”

“. . .do you think Keith _would_ , in the lounge?” Lance asked softly. “With, like, all the others around? Or even if they might _come_ around and . . . see?”

“Get naked?” Pidge said, voice jacking higher. “No, no I _don’t_.” Well. Probably not. It could be hard to tell, even _now_ , just _how_ far cognitively off-spec Keith would be about things. And he certainly hadn’t been shy about stripping _here_ \- Pidge still felt a little self-conscious when she first took her shirt off with her boyfriends, though these days after a few minutes it faded comfortably.

“No.” Lance said, shaking his head, and he didn’t actually sound playful or lascivious at all, Pidge realised - neither had the prior question. “Do you think he _would_ . . . cuddle. . .”

Pidge frowned, propping herself up more and looking down at Lance. “. . .probably.” she told him, eying Keith sideways.

“You think?” Lance asked, then looked away, glancing at her carefully while keeping his face partially averted. “Would you?”

Pidge frowned a little more. “. . .we’re not ashamed of you.” she said flatly, and Lance’s eyes widened suddenly. Possibly she should have been more tactful. Pidge wasn’t very good at _that_ , either.

She’d thought she’d get better at it as she grew older, but her little ‘family’ didn’t necessarily encourage it, between them, with their reactions.

Almost everything rolled off Hunk easily; Shiro was a font of understanding and big brotherly comfort; Coran usually didn’t notice Pidge’s blunders; Allura would be sharp in return at times but her temper faded quickly, if it was ‘temper’ at all.

Keith either didn’t notice or didn’t _care_ \- in fact Pidge had hypothesised that in some cases he found it easier when she would speak bluntly with him - except on rare occasions when they would clash, and clash _badly_ . . . and then nothing helped.

Most things rolled off Lance, too, but not the same way as Hunk - Lance . . . internalised, Pidge had come to realise as they grew up and grew closer. Some things truly didn’t bother him, but some things . . . he would never show openly when they did. Pidge mostly tried to soften her habitual needling for him, because she never wanted to be behind that buried hurt. She kissed his shoulder lightly.

“That’s, um, that’s good.” Lance said finally, fidgeting only to find that with Pidge still leaning over him and the solid weight of Keith draped over his shoulder and upper body he couldn’t really move away.

“Yes, I would cuddle with you in the lounge, as long as I’m not trying to work. Or if you can keep your hands - or anything _else_ \- from interfering with my equipment.” Pidge added magnanimously. “And you should ask Keith, if it’s important to you.”

Pidge put her head down again, huffing a bit. She nudged her face against Lance’s arm, shoving him over and getting comfortable.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.” Lance said, shaking his head, his shaggy hair rustling against the pillow. There was a soft, staticky crackle as hair dragged over fabric.

Pidge sighed through her nose. “It’s the best way.” she pointed out. _Especially_ with Keith. Or herself. Neither of them was the best at picking up on things Lance might have left unspoken.

“What are you talking about?” Keith said, sounding irritated.

Lance yelped and flailed, but Pidge clamped her arms and one leg tighter around him before he could knock her off the bed, and Keith . . . didn’t _appear_ to do anything, but Lance didn’t so much as shove him back any. Pidge thought of the way cats could suddenly get _so much heavier_ when they didn’t want to be picked up. And wished she had learned the trick. Granted, Keith was heavier than she was to begin with, and _solid_.

Pidge scrambled back into a comfortable spot along Lance’s side - her butt had wound up hanging off the edge of the bed, though her hold on Lance had kept her up just fine - when he stopped moving again.

“You’re awake?” Lance asked, the pitch of his voice climbing on the second word.

“You’re being _loud_.” Keith said patiently. “What are you talking about?” he repeated. “I heard my name.” he added as Lance’s mouth started moving, probably before his brain kicked in.

“Your name? Oh just- um- just wondering if you would cuddle with me - with us - like this, well not like _this_ obviously,” Lance coughed and Pidge laughed, watching his hand slide down Keith’s side to his naked hip just under the blanket, then falter, “but . . . in the lounge, or I guess anywhere, but not here - or my room, or yours, obviously - but with the others around so maybe-”

“Why not?” Keith said, leaning up on his elbows, one of them braced on Lance’s diaphragm. Lance made an inarticulate sound, still babbling, and Keith leaned down and kissed him. Pidge rarely used that method to quiet Lance herself, but from observation she thought it might be Keith’s favourite. “Yes, Lance, if you can refrain from being annoying, I will . . . ‘cuddle’ with you . . . wherever.” he said as he drew back.

“Oh. Cool.” Lance said, smiling slightly. “I mean, yeah, _obviously_ you would. Who wouldn’t want to get their hands all over _this_ hot-”

“Lance.” Keith interrupted, and Lance broke off with an inquiring noise. “Shut up.” he said, lips twitching.

“Right, shutting up!” Lance said, grinning. He hugged Keith tighter, knocking the breath out of him, and Keith rolled his eyes and stretched out even _more_ on top of Lance - he was resting a little bit on Pidge, even, now - as he relaxed. “Do I have to ask, or can I just, like. . .” He lifted his hand from Pidge’s waist and waved vaguely.

“Ask.” Pidge said automatically, thinking of the way Lance . . . _flopped_ everywhere, and seeing visions of one of his long limbs bashing into her computer or sending fine components scattering.

“As long as I’m not training I don’t care.” Keith said almost at the same time, and Lance made a happy sound, snuggling between them. He all but purred as he settled, going still.

Pidge stroked his chest again, though this time she was a little more limited in what she could reach, as Keith was taking up a lot of Lance’s . . . skin surface. Pidge hid a laugh in Lance’s shoulder, throwing a leg over his and bumping companionably into Keith’s.

Keith rearranged himself to cede a bit more room to Pidge - Lance groaned a protest as he pulled back - and well, with _that_ she felt like she simply _had_ to take up a little bit more space. More of Lance. She edged closer, pushing herself up, and Keith raised an eyebrow at her, a smirky little smile curving his lips. It was a challenging, expectant expression.

Pidge narrowed her eyes, then grinned and rolled onto Lance entirely, startling him, though he wrapped an arm around her waist to stabilise her immediately.

“Ah, mi amorcita, do you need my strong arms around _mmph_.”

Pidge laughed a little against his mouth, the sloppy kiss thrumming with Lance’s quickly discontinued attempt to speak and her own laughter. It was possibly Keith was also _better_ at silencing Lance with kisses - Pidge always seemed to misjudge the timing or something and it went . . . messily.

Fortunately Lance never seemed to mind, and Pidge still liked his kisses when they were clumsy and filled with muffled chatter. It never took him too long to catch on and make things better, smoother, anyway.

Pidge purred against his mouth, back arching as Keith’s hand slid up her spine, pressing just firmly enough to make her want to melt even more.

**Author's Note:**

> Spanish translations:  
> Mis amantes - my lovers  
> Mi amorcita - my little love


End file.
